


Moving Out

by jadey36



Category: Robin Hood BBC
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 11:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadey36/pseuds/jadey36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone's about to get a fright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving Out

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Hoodland's spooky fic challenge over on Livejournal. Unbet'd, so any errors are all mine. 
> 
> Disclaimer - Robin Hood belongs to Tiger Aspect and the BBC. No copyright infringement intended. All rights reserved. No monies are being made.

**Moving Out**

“Crikey, Marian!”  Jumping back in fright, Allan smacks into a nearby tree.  “Will you please stop doing that.  You scared the living daylights out of me.”

“Sorry.  I keep forgetting.”

“Yeah, well, keep your ghostly habits to yourself.  And just when are you going to change out of that blooming white dress?” 

“I can’t change out of it,” Marian patiently points out.  “I died in it – remember?”

“Leave the poor girl alone,” Robin says, stepping from behind the trees into the forest clearing.  “It’s bad enough her being a ghost, without having to put up with your constant teasing day and night.”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I think being a ghost has its compensations.  I mean, at least she never gets hungry.”

“Can I help it that I got bitten by a bat?” Robin retorts.

“Well, the poxy cave, as Much calls it, was your idea, Robin, and—”

“What is it?” Robin asks.

“Er...not being funny, but you might want to wash your face before we go robbing unwary nobles.  It wouldn’t do to be spreading the rumour that Robin Hood has developed a taste for blood.” 

Robin wipes his chin with the back of his hand, grins a predatory grin.  “I quite fancy me a juicy noble tonight.  I’m sick to death – no offence, Marian – of squirrels.  Do you know how many I have to get through just to satisfy my thirst?”

“More than Much can possibly catch, I’ll wager.” Allan laughs.  Then says, face serious, “I hear there’s a party of toffs heading to the castle for some fancy banquet or other.  Might be worth a look, don’t you think?  Keep you from going for my neck anyway.” 

Robin looks contritely at Allan.  “Sorry about last night.  I wasn’t fully awake, didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Yeah, well,” Allan fingers his neck, “I think we’ve had far too many close calls lately.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, Marian?” Robin says, glad of the distraction.

“Er...I know you want to go feed...I mean, go rob some nobles, but can we talk about something else first?”

“Make it quick then.”

“Promise me you won’t get angry.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Robins says with smirk.

Allan sniggers.

“Sorry,” Robin apologises. “Can’t help myself.”

“You know, if I weren’t a ghost, I’d slap you.  As it is, I’ll have to content myself with flapping this thing...”  Marian holds up her bloodied skirts, “in your face whenever you get on my nerves.”

“What is it you want to talk about, my love?”

“It’s about the camp.  Or rather, about me being in the camp.”

“Yes?”

“I was thinking.  Why am I here?  Why haven’t I, you know, moved on?”

“Because we’re better company than a bunch of harp-playing angels?” Robin suggests.

“Can’t you be serious for once in your life?  I think it’s because Gisborne hasn’t paid for what he did to me.”

“And what do you want to do about it?”

“I want to go and haunt him.”

“Really?”

“Yes.  I want to move into the castle.  I want to make Gisborne confess to the world that he killed me.”

“I see.”

“But first...” Marian smiles evilly.  “I want to scare the crap out of him.”

“Now you’re talking.”

“The thing is, Robin, I’d like you to come with me.”

“Why?”

“Because the castle gives me the creeps, that’s why.”

~

After slipping and sliding through rat-infested sewers, Robin and Marian find themselves standing outside a deserted room in the north tower of Nottingham Castle.

“You know you could have saved yourself this gruesome, not to mention rather smelly, way of getting into the castle, by simply floating to the top of the battlements,” Robin tells Marian.

“As you’re so fond of saying,” Marian says, passing a ghostly hand through the locked door and dropping the latch, “where would be the fun in that?”

“You’re sure no one comes up here?” Robin peeks around the door.

“Quite sure.”

“So, shall we find Gisborne now, or just settle in?”

“No time like the present.” Marian rattles her chains at him.

As if in answer, Gisborne rounds a corner, heading towards them. 

“Holy Mother of God!”

“What’s the matter, Gisborne?” Robin grins. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost?”

“She’s...she’s...  Marian. How can you be here? 

“I have come to haunt you, Guy of Gisborne,” Marian says breathily, “unless you confess your sins to the whole of Nottingham, tomorrow, in the middle of the market, at noon, or thereabouts.  Confess, or I shall steal into your room every night, claw your hair, climb into your bed, push my way in between —”

“Marian,” Robin hisses.

“What?”

“Stick to the script.”

“Sorry.”  Marian turns back to Gisborne. “Get on your knees and confess.  Confesssssssss.”

“Is this a trick, Locksley?” Gisborne sneers.

“No trick, Gisborne.  Now do as the lady says.”

“Or what?”

“Or I might take a nibble on that gorgeous neck of yours.”

Robin bares his fangs.

Horrified, Gisborne backs away.

“Now who’s not sticking to the script,” Marian complains. 

“How about it, Gisborne?” Robin says, waving Marian away.  “Just one little bite.  I’ve always had a hankering for a man in leather.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Marian says, whacking Robin on the shins with her chains.

“Ouch!  That hurt.”

“Good.”  Marian turns back to Gisborne.  “Confe...  Where’s he gone?”

“I guess the idea of me getting up close and personal scared him off,” Robin says, grinning.

“I’ll give you up close and personal.” Marian gives Robin another hefty whack, on the back of his knees this time, and a final one on his left cheek.

“Ow, that really, really hurt.”

Turning her back on him, Marian floats through the nearest wall.

“Wait.  Where are you going?” Robin calls, wiping blood from his cheek, and sincerely hoping he won’t be tempted to eat himself.

“You’re on your own,” Marian calls back. “I’m moving out.”

From an adjacent corridor, a terrified voice calls, “Marian.  Wait for me.”

Robin grins. Gisborne’s quarters will be much more comfortable than either the forest camp or the poky room in the north tower, and Sheriff Vaisey is hardly going to notice a few missing guards, after all. 

**_Sequel to follow..._ **


End file.
